


Banda Aceh, Indonesia, 2004

by Katzedecimal



Series: Heaven Is Mean To Aziraphale [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Earthquakes, Gen, Horror, Natural Disasters, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 12:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: “Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted, “Crowley, no!  You can’t go swimming in that!”  But Crowley leaped off the roof in a perfect swan dive, hitting the raging water and swimming in a sprint with strong, sure strokes.  Aziraphale kept his eyes fixed on his friend.  He couldn’t see it but he knew what Crowley was after.”Not the kids?  You can’t kill kids!”





	Banda Aceh, Indonesia, 2004

“City’s alright,” Crowley said doubtfully, “Nice enough hotel. They sent you **here** for what, a beach holiday?”

“No,” Aziraphale said slowly, “It’s an assignment.”

“Yeah, you said. You don’t usually mention it, is what I’m saying. We stay out of each other’s way, job-wise. What’s the assignment? Bit of blessing?”

Aziraphale sighed, “It’s an observation.”

“Oh.” Crowley’s stomach dropped like a lead balloon. He understood immediately. 

“You’re usually in the area anyways,” Aziraphale commented, “Which I’ve… always appreciated. If you don’t wish to stay, I certainly wouldn’t blame you. I probably shouldn’t have asked but… I’ve found your presence makes these jobs somewhat easier to bear.”

Crowley said nothing. The angel wasn’t mistaken - whenever he got wind that Heaven had assigned Aziraphale another ‘act of God’ to observe, he’d find some reason to visit the area. On two occasions, he’d actually gone to Hell to find a mission to volunteer for, just so he would have some plausible deniability. They were in the hotel’s dining room, having breakfast. Crowley sipped his coffee and looked out of the hotel windows at the streets. “What’s going to happen **here?**” he asked, “Typhoon? Is it the right seasons for typhoons?”

Aziraphale shook his head, “There’s nothing on the meteo reports.”

“Another volcano? We’re near Tambora, right?”

“And Anak Krakatau,” Aziraphale nodded, “So it’s possible.”

“Bloody volcanoes,” Crowley snorted.

Aziraphale sighed, “No volcanologist reports, though. I checked ahead.”

Crowley’s eyes, as always hidden behind sunglasses, roved around the windows, taking in what he could. “So what’s it going to be? This is a tropical island, you won’t get tornadoes out here.”

“Possibly waterspouts but they tend not to do the kinds of damage that Heaven likes to send me out to watch,” Aziraphale grumbled. 

Crowley didn’t argue. He’d long known that Heaven was doing this deliberately, making Aziraphale watch disaster after disaster, nearly all with a high loss of life. He wondered if they didn’t understand the psychological damage they were doing to Aziraphale’s soul or if they just didn’t care or if the cruelty was the point? In any case, they were no better than Hell on that score. “Nothing in the weather, no volcanic activity… At this point, I’m thinking terrorist attack.”

Aziraphale nodded. “That’s usually classed under ‘act of humanity,’ not really what they’re interested in. But who knows, they might have changed the policy. It’s not like **I’d** know. They never tell me anything that might actually **help.**”

Crowley flashed a feral grin, “Same old Heaven, then.”

Aziraphale bit his lips on a snicker. “They tend not to change policy very often, though,” he pointed out, “But as it’s a lovely morning and there’s nothing in any of the reporting that I’ve been able to f-” He broke off as his teacup began to rattle in its saucer. Then the whole table was vibrating and his face blanched as white as his wings. Without a word, he shot out of his chair, seized Crowley’s hand and dragged him under the table as the whole place started to heave.

It went on and on and on. Glass shattered, objects fell, cracks formed in the walls and ceilings, people screamed. Aziraphale clung to Crowley but his face was deadly calm. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it was over. “Or it could be an earthquake,” Crowley finished.

Aziraphale gave him a Look. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Bit shaken up.”

Another Look, then, cautiously, Aziraphale crawled out from under the table. “That was nearly ten minutes,” he said, looking around at the damage. Many of the ceiling tiles had fallen and the dining room was a shambles. “There will be aftershocks.” He looked around and whispered, “I hope there isn’t going to be another fire.”

Crowley crawled out and cautiously made his way to the broken windows to look outside, “An awful lot of collapsed buildings, Angel. The casualty count is going to be pretty high but there’s a lot of people milling around. Look, there’s a medical team already and a bunch of construction workers.”

“I suppose we’d better see what we can do.”

Crowley looked at him, “Are you allowed to help this time?”

Aziraphale chewed his lips and admitted, "They didn't expressly forbid me, this time. To be honest, I think he forgot, but I didn't particularly feel up to reminding him."

Crowley flashed him a quick grin, “C’mon, Angel, let’s go take a look.”

They walked through the ruined streets and Crowley snapped his fingers a few times, allowing crews to miraculously find survivors, shut down power sources before they could explode, extract people just before buildings could collapse. “Have you ever been questioned about that?” Aziraphale asked him. 

“Once or twice,” Crowley admitted, “I give them the old ‘thwarting the Great Plan’ line, that usually works.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Crowley grinned at him toothily, “I tell them ‘it stops the angel Aziraphale from going on a rampage, remember the last time that happened, Hastur, he discorporated you with a _pen_’. They stop arguing after that.”

“I see. I wouldn’t exactly call what I did ‘rampaging’, though.”

“No, but that’s what I told them you’d do once you learned they had a demonic operation going on, which, if Hastur was there, they certainly did. And since you’d just discorporated Hastur with a pen, oh I had so much fun with that, never let him live that one down, they all agreed to leave it alone and let me handle you.”

Aziraphale nodded, “To be honest, you probably weren’t wrong about that.” He sighed and looked around then frowned, “Crowley?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it me or was the beach further out than that? The sea seems to be quite abitcloseandgettingcloser!” Aziraphale’s voice rose as he realized what was happening.

Crowley looked around, “Oh no **no no nonononono!**” He snapped his fingers, miracling them up onto a roof just as the water smashed through where they’d been standing. They stared in shock as the water level rose rapidly, surging past the building they stood on, pushing a wall of debris and broken glass ahead of it. It quickly neared the level of the roof they were standing on and very soon, they could see nothing but water all around. “Well, there’s your mass destruction,” Crowley gasped, as the water kept surging on and on. “I thought that ‘rainbow’ thing was about promising _not_ to drown everybody again?”

“Yes, well… _That_ was a deluge; _this_ is a tsunami,” Aziraphale said, in the tone of one who doesn’t even believe his own bullshit anymore.

Crowley nodded sagely, “Oh yeah, right, **completely** different, that,” and shot him a Look. Aziraphale shrugged. Crowley shrugged back.

“I thought the sea was supposed to disappear first?” Crowley said, looking out over the water.

“That’s if the trough of the wave is arriving first,” Aziraphale said, “If the crest arrives first, this is what you get.”

Crowley nodded, “We were busy anyways, might have missed it.” He spotted a boat with a pair of fishermen, being dragged past, and snapped his fingers, ensuring they would find a few survivors and miraculously stay afloat. 

The building they were on was completely inundated, the water lapping at the level of the roof. Crowley looked down at it, dismayed. “If there’s anyone left alive in this building…” he shook his head, “I don’t think that’s the kind of miracle I can pull off, Angel.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said quietly, “It’s beyond me, too. It’s alright, I’ve been… helping them along. Anything you **can** do, I greatly appreciate it.”

“I thought you were awfully quiet,” Crowley nodded. He looked around again, “The flow’s reversing. There’ll be another one, soon.”

They watched the water surging back out, dragging debris and bodies with it. They were too many and too fast for Aziraphale to attend to each personally; instead he sought out each dying soul and released it as swiftly as he could. Those who were still alive, he left to Crowley, to further his efforts at thwarting Heaven’s latest attempt to kill everyone.

And then Crowley hissed, “_Shit!_” and started running, ripping off his jacket. 

“_Crowley!_” Aziraphale shouted, “Crowley, no! You can’t go swimming in that!” But Crowley leaped off the roof in a perfect swan dive, hitting the raging water and swimming in a sprint with strong, sure strokes. Aziraphale kept his eyes fixed on his friend. He couldn’t see it but he knew what Crowley was after. 

_”Not the kids? You can’t kill kids!”_

He’d gone in after a child. Only Crowley would throw himself into an active tsunami to try to rescue a child, Aziraphale thought wryly. Heaven certainly wouldn’t.

He stayed focused on where he’d last spotted Crowley, then closed his eyes and tried to sense him. Crowley was much better at it; he seemed to find Aziraphale no matter where he was. Nevertheless, he could sense that Crowley had been dragged far out to sea. He hoped his friend would be alright, and the child he’d gone after, and wished that he could pray for it.

They hadn’t _explicitly_ forbidden Aziraphale to help people this time but he knew that they’d be tetchy about it if it he did. So instead, he focused on helping people to help themselves. Ensuring that boats miraculously alighted on rooftops, that rescuers miraculously found survivors, that buildings miraculously collapsed in just the right ways to release people (who would hopefully be taken out of the reach of the next inundation but Aziraphale knew he’d have a tougher time explaining that.) 

He waited, and he waited, trying to sense Crowley and getting very worried. And then, he could sense Crowley getting closer very rapidly - the second wave was arriving. He watched it mount up, a black wall of water, and realized that the roof he was on was nowhere near tall enough, not for this one. He looked down. The streets were clear, everyone who was still in the vicinity wouldn’t be for much longer anyways… He pulled his wings out and sighted along the leading edge of the wall of water. “Crowley!” He waved frantically, running along the roof and jumping to another one, trying to position himself to intercept the rapidly-approaching demon who was just barely visible at the crest of the wave. “Crowley!” He braced himself and leaped, catching the demon and his burdens as the water smashed into them. 

Aziraphale beat his wings, trying to get enough lift to pull Crowley and the two, three, how many were attached to him? - out of the force of the water. He felt something smash into his back and knew he’d been injured, but he kept beating, keeping them them above the surface. He and Crowley didn’t need to breathe but Crowley’s burdens did.

“Angel, to your left!”

Aziraphale did as he was told. His feet found a relatively dry rooftop and he collapsed, letting Crowley roll off of him. The pain in his wings was searing. Well, it **had** been a long time since he had used them, surely the muscles were terribly out of shape by now. “Crowley?” he panted.

Crowley had vomited vile black water and sat getting his bearings before immediately turning to check the children he had rescued. “C’mon c’mon c’mon,” he whispered, “Don’t do this to me. C’mon, little one, Heaven’s not getting you just yet and you’re too young and tiny for Hell. What are you, five months? Six? C’mon now, you can do it… Therrrrre you go. That’s better.” The infant let out a squalling cry and Crowley sighed with relief then turned to the next child. Somehow he’d managed to rescue two children, a baby, and a young woman. _No wonder he was so heavy,_ Aziraphale thought. 

He was also very injured. His clothes were in shreds, his sunglasses gone, and he was covered in lacerations and black blood. “Crowley, your eye…”

“Stings like anything. How bad is it?”

“Very bad. Come here and let me fix it.” Aziraphale sat up, wincing at the pain in his wing and back, but reached out to Crowley and set his hand over the demon’s bloody and swollen eye. After removing the splinters and glass debris, he healed it, using some very careful phrasing to omit the fact that the ‘rescuer of children’ he was praying for was in fact a demon. “How’s that?”

Crowley blinked several times, “Much better, Angel.” He looked at Aziraphale and sucked in his breath, “Angel, don’t move that wing!”

“It hurts like blazes, I don’t mind saying,” Aziraphale admitted, “I hit something with my back, must have bruised it.”

Crowley shook his head, “It’s much more than bruised, Angel. Hang on, let me help… **No**, don’t try to heal it yet just… let me… Angel, it’s nearly torn right off, let me get it back into place first…” Aziraphale cried out as his wing was lifted and turned, Crowley’s fingers feeling along the flesh for the broken shafts of bone to fit them back together. “Sorry, sorry, Angel, I know it hurts… Alright, I’ve got it.” 

Aziraphale took several breaths to breathe through the pain, then healed his wounds. “Much appreciated, my dear,” he said at last, “Now let me see these children.”

“Are you allowed to?”

Aziraphale scratched his wet hair, “I think I might be able to get away with a technicality, since they’ve already survived and someone else rescued them.”

“I hate that you even have to justify it like that. You’re an **angel**, that’s what you **do**, supposedly!”

“Preaching to the choir, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed and stretched his hands out over the children to heal their wounds. “Now let’s get them to a proper hospital. Maybe they can find their families.”

* * * *

The door of the bookshop slammed shut with enough force to shake the walls. Aziraphale stormed through towards the back room, his face dark with anger. Crowley blinked and immediately reached for the whiskey, “Didn’t go so well, I take it?”

“I got reprimanded,” Aziraphale grated, sinking onto the couch.

“_What?_ What on earth for?”

“For ‘wasting’ miracles on my ‘boo-boos.’”

Crowley gaped, “I hardly think a nearly-amputated wing is a ‘boo-boo’!”

“They wouldn’t let me get that far,” Aziraphale took the offered shot of whiskey and knocked it back. He slammed the empty glass down and Crowley filled it again. 

Crowley shook his head, “Your side _sucks_, Angel.”

Aziraphale grunted and sipped his whiskey but otherwise didn’t answer. He was remembering a similar time, a similar reprimand, the last straw that had prompted him to accept the demon’s offer of an arrangement. There were times he was almost envious. Hell gave out commendations. All Aziraphale had ever gotten were reprimands and a pot-metal medal gilded with brass. Mind, Hell also beat people up for good performance, so there was that. Heaven gave out veiled threats and condescending insults.

“Angel?”

Aziraphale glanced up to see that Crowley had moved to join him on the couch. He’d slouched back with his arm stretched out along the back of the couch, exposing his right side invitingly. Aziraphale took another sip of whiskey and accepted the invitation, settling against Crowley’s side and letting the demon’s arm fall onto his shoulder. He gave the demon a sly smile, “Your side, on the other hand, is very comforting.”

Crowley looked away but he was grinning. He looked back, “Dinner? Sushi?”

Aziraphale sipped his whiskey and nodded, “In a bit.”


End file.
